


Somebody To Love

by idareu2bme



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Innuendo, M/M, Post-Canon, Revenge, Ridiculous, Song Lyrics, Teasing, geoffrey's ridiculous speeches, public embarressment, shameless QUEEN references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idareu2bme/pseuds/idareu2bme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoffrey gets even with Wat by embarrassing him with grand proclamations of romance and desire. It kind of backfires rather epicly-- neither Geoffrey nor Wat really mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody To Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kangeiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangeiko/gifts).



> This wasn't assigned to me, but... When I read your request, I was immediately burdened with all sorts of plot bunnies and they wouldn't leave me! I really hope you enjoy this little fic I've written for you!! You said in your letter that you weren't down with abusive relationships and, while I do NOT think these two will have a truly abusive one, no one can deny Wat's proclivity to violence --or at least threats of it. I thought their dynamic was awesome in the movie and tried to continue it... as well as continue the rock n roll vibe of the movie with a butt load of Queen references and lyrics worked into the dialogue. Hopefully, you like where I went with this.

He was fed up. Wat had been on him ever since he had joined their little company. That redheaded pig of a man was driving Geoffrey to drink --moreso than he usually did. Something had to be done. The threats, the bully... well, it wasn’t too much to handle, really, but it was all rather irritating. If they were a pack, then Geoffrey was not going to allow himself to continue being the omega. He was no whipping boy, no sacrificial lamb to Wat’s bad moods. He must get even.

It was with that thought that Geoffrey trudged through the busy crowds with plans to find Wat and give him a good tongue lashing. Just as Geoffrey rounded a bend in the city's street, he spied Wat stepping out from a tavern and, in that moment, a thought occurred to him. With that thought a grin sprouted and pulled at his lips, so he bit them together to keep it from growing further and strode with purpose across the busy street.

“Behold,” he exclaimed when he knew he was within range of vision and sound, throwing his hands up to gain full attention of each passerby, “Behold, I say! ....Look yonder, for it tis the sun!”

He watched Wat freeze in place. It was difficult not to give himself away by full-out laughing as he watched a look of pure dread passed across Wat’s face when he realized Geoffrey was gesturing to him.

“There he stands!” continued Geoff, “the lion; fierce and bold! With a mane red as licks of flame and, oh, how he burns. He is the fire that engulfs the forest --but with his destruction he also brings life. Each morning, I rise by the call of the cock and, ye, I die little. I can barely stand on my feet. I take a look in the mirror and I cry, ‘Lord, what are you doing to me? I spent my years believing in you, a pilgrim to your great Word. But dear God Almighty, I can get no relief! I need somebody, Lord. Please, bring me somebody to love!’”

Geoffrey fell dramatically to his knees as he spoke, looking to the heavens with anguish written across his face but only glee in his breast. He scrunched his eyes together and let out a few pained pants of breath before daring crack an eye to check that Wat was still there. Yes, he was still frozen in place, mortification having taken all the colour from his already pale complexion. Geoff took a deep breath and rose back to his feet.

“And then finally, good people,” he exclaimed, “God, most faithfully, answered my desperate prayers! That fire, that destructive wildfire, it came and it burned! It engulfed! It ravaged! That fire, it came over me and, like a pinecone, my chest cracked open and sunlight shone in! Seeds of love sprouted from my very soul! New life! I am a new man! You made me live again! You gave me life! Life that only the truest of love could bring, it came, it blossomed from my very being... where I had been _split apart_ by the _blazing passion_ that is Wat the lion!”

It was that moment when Wat finally saw fit to move. Geoffrey couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter as he watched Wat run, like a dog with its tail between its legs, from the gathered crowd. People cheered and bellowed at him while he fled, hurling lewd insults his way but stepping out of it as he ran. Feeling vindicated, Geoffrey turned and strode away with something of a bounce to his step. That would teach the horse’s ass not to mess with Geoffrey Chaucer.

\----------

Though he had undoubtedly expected retribution, he was still taken unawares when he was violently grabbed by the cloth of his tunic upon entering the stables that evening. Geoffrey, by merit of experience, went completely lax and allowed his attacker to toss him in an arch to the bales of straw in the corner. He landed with an exhaled ‘oof’ before quickly scrambling backward, straining his eyes in the darkness to see his attacker. Though he had been surprised at being grabbed just then, he was not surprised when he immediately recognized the form to belong to that of an enraged Wat.

“You would out me as a sodomite in front of all of Paris?” hissed Wat, his voice haggard with its ferocity.

“Out you?” stuttered Geoffrey trying for cocky, but missing the mark just a tad as he was grabbed by the tunic again and thrown against the wall. “Such a choice in words might cause one to surmise--”

“Shut up!” snapped Wat, pulling a balled fist back while holding Geoffrey in place by the other clenched in the fabric of his collar. "I ought to pummel you!"

Geoff stiffened and readied himself for the blow, but it never came. Instead, a moving light suddenly shone from the other side of the stables and with it came the familiar faces of William and Roland. Geoff went limp with relief.

“This is not over,” whispered Wat from between clenched teeth. “I will fong you, you slimey--”

“Perhaps by fong you truly mean fuck,” replied Geoffrey feeling bold oncw Wat’s calloused knuckles were no longer aimed at his face. “I know how you ache for me.”

Wat’s mouth dropped open in surprise before his eyebrows quickly came together in anger. His fist reappeared. However, before he punched him, William’s voice cut in.

“Wat,” called William as he stepped into view. “What are you doing?”

Wat stood up and brushed himself off.

“Nothing, just having a discussion with our good friend Geoff, here,” replied Wat.

Geoffrey stayed sprawled on the floor as William and Roland both looked between them with eyes narrowed in suspicion. He waited until the three of them left before getting to his feet and brushing the pieces of straw and muck from his clothes. He grinned to himself as he did so. He had found the weakest spot in Wat’s emotional armour --not that the lunatic of a man was truly sound in any aspect of his emotional countenance, but this seemed to be the sorest of spots. He must take advantage.

 

\----------

Weeks went by and a great many changes took place. They reached London where William was found out, put in the stocks but then honoured and knighted. Geoffrey's attachment to the group had cemented in his mind and heart, but all the while, he continued to torment Wat, pressing on that sore spot of his. Such a trivial thing, masculinity, and yet, Wat seemed hell bent on protecting his. Such great fun it was to constantly exclaim how he adored Wat and to watch his face flood with colour, or completely be erased of it.

 

The problem with constantly speaking heartfelt falsities to someone for weeks on end, though, was that those mocking words somehow manage to lose their falsity. Well, at least, they did for Geoffrey. It occurred to him very suddenly, one sunny afternoon when he and Wat were standing together watching Sir William train, that the words having just left his mouth were not so much in jest with the sole purpose of mockery, but in knee jerk, instinctual reaction to the endearing presence of the man standing beside him. Wat, though easily provoked, was a faithful friend, both loyal and protective, afterall.

“Oh, but how I cherish you, my lion,” Geoffrey had spoken.

He watched in immediate internal turmoil as Wat’s jaw clenched familiarly in long-suffering frustration. Over the past weeks Geoffrey had received many a punch, kick, and shove because of his spouted proclamations of love and desire for Wat, but, looking back, he realized that they had not been nearly as violent as would have been expected, and stranger still, they had quickly tapered off-- and, indeed, almost all within the first week. Wat, short-tempered and easily angered though he was, had, in all actuality, resigned himself to this cruel mockery rather quickly for someone with such a thunderous disposition.

Surely someone as irascible as Wat could not have the patience to simply ignore Geoff’s shameless come-ons in hopes that he would soon grow bored and desist. No, Wat was not one to simply ‘play the game’, especially one so risky in a Christian country. So, what could be the motivation behind Wat’s choice to endure it instead of continuing to fight? Geoffrey bit his lip thoughtfully. He needed more information in order to properly speculate.

“Say Love,” spoke Geoffery, “what are you doing tonight?”

Wat looked away from the field to frown at Geoff.

“You see,” continued Geoffrey, noticing out of the corner of his eye that he now had Kate and Roland’s attentions, too. They both seemed to quite enjoy witnessing Geoff’s taunting of Wat and Geoffrey, ever the performer, couldn’t possibly hold back when he knew he had their attention --even now when he knew that there was something more to his threats of romance than there might have been at the start. “I’d like for you and I to go romancing.”

Wat’s lip immediately curled and Geoffrey knew he had to say the rest quickly lest he not have a chance before Wat fled.

“I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things,” explained Geoff, licking his lips and grinning lewdly as he continued. “We can do the dance for o--”

“Would you bloody stop!” exclaimed Wat in a sudden eruption of fury.

Geoffrey's eyes went wide and he flinched back as Wat lunged at him. But he did not, in actuality, receive any sort of _fonging_ , no. Instead, Wat’s hands came to his face and wrapped around his jaw, fingertips pressing almost gently against the back of his skull, and a desperate, open-mouthed kiss was pushed against his lips. Geoffrey flailed his arms out in surprise, his heart leaping into his throat, but he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around Wat and returned the kiss, matching Wat’s frustrated fervour in teeth and tongue.

When they parted for breath many long moments later, Geoffrey laughed at the slight taste of blood in his mouth and the whine that escaped Wat’s throat at their parting.  

“Ooh love,” he exhaled. “Ooh loverboy.”

“Damnit, Geoff,” whispered Wat with could only be mock annoyance at that point before pulling him in for another kiss, this one gentled but somehow still as heated. Geoffrey hummed into the kiss, pressing closer to Wat as his mind and body sang with sudden want.

“Let’s go,” Geoffrey gasped tearing his mouth away from Wat’s for a moment. “I believe you owe me a good _fonging_.”

This had not been his original intention when he had started torturing Wat with poetic exclamations of his undying, unwavering love… but, oh, what a way to get even.

####    
  



End file.
